one gaining more traction.
Yes, that’s the most sensible explanation, after all. A prank. Nothing more.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, knuckles whitening, as I back the car out of the driveway and head to…
Where?
Where can I possibly go?
I could drive to my parents’ law firm and tell them about the encounter, but a nagging voice in my head whispers that they wouldn’t care. They would probably be more pissed at me for disturbing them than anything else.
Biting my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, I drive with no destination in mind. All I know for certain is that I need to get away. I need to escape the demons nipping at my heels.
When my car stops in front of a gaudy, two-star motel, I don’t hesitate before pulling into a parking space. Adam is sleeping in the backseat, blissfully unaware.
Should I call the police?
They didn’t technically hurt me, but they had broken into my house. If it was a prank, I would feel horrible if I got them arrested. Though, they kind of deserve it. I mean, I had to drain that entire fake plant of nearly an entire pot of coffee.
But if what they said was true, if they’re truly demons…
No! Don’t be ridiculous, Katrina. Since when do you believe in the supernatural?
Taking a deep, calming breath, I wake Adam up, and together, the two of us walk towards the lone building designated as reception. My hand trembles as I give the worker my credit card. Hopefully, my parents won’t look at my statement anytime soon. I would have to have a rather uncomfortable conversation on why I chose to rent a hotel room for seemingly no fucking reason.
Then again, them thinking I had hotel sex is better than the alternative.
“Why are we here?” Adam queries, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His eyes are bright with excitement. “Are we on vacation?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately as I accept the room key and exit the building. The November air is cool, the wind blowing my pink tresses away from my face.
“Is there a pool? Can we go in it?” Adam continues to fire off question after question as I find our door at the end of the hall. Using the key card, we step into a sparsely furnished room with two twin-sized beds, two nightstands flanking them, and a chunky television situated on a wooden stand. The green carpeting contrasts greatly with the eggshell white walls. At the very end of the room, a golden light is on to reveal a modest bathroom consisting of a sink, bathtub, and toilet.
This place is swanky. And by swanky, I mean it looks like it’s full of diseases. Damn. I briefly wish I’d brought my own sheets… Why didn’t I think of that? Nope. Focus. We’re safe. Now, I need to make sure we stay that way.
“I call this bed!” Adam announces immediately, plopping down on the mattress closest to the television. I don’t bother arguing as he grabs the remote from the stand and flicks through the channels.
Heart juddering in my chest, I make quick work contacting the security company and demanding they change the locks. They promise to have a man come by this afternoon, but they also assure me that their records show no signs of a break-in.
I have no idea how that’s possible, and when I ask, the line goes deathly silent for a moment.
“I’m afraid we don’t have an answer to that,” the accented man states. “But nothing shows up on the security cameras, and no alarms were triggered.”
I’m going insane. It’s official. I’m going completely insane. Oh God. Soon, I’m going to be in a loony bin, forced to wear a straightjacket.
Exhaustion begins to creep in like a dark fog curling around the edges of my vision. With Adam preoccupied with Paw Patrol, I allow my eyelids to flutter closed, sleep claiming me.
When I wake up the next morning, after a dream sans Ziel, the sky is still dark, a canvas of velvety blackness broken apart by slivers of moonlight. I groan, twisting in my bed, and wearily open up one eyelid.
A string of expletives leaves my lips as I see the time on the digital alarm clock.
Seven twenty-three AM.
Fuck! I slept longer than I thought I would. It’s already morning…and we have less than ten minutes until school begins.
“Adam!” I say urgently, throwing back my covers and grabbing his duffle bag. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
He murmurs something inarticulate, hair wildly tousled, but reluctantly